


Running (Then Running Back)

by theshizniiit



Category: Common Law
Genre: Cheating, Heartbreak, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:51:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2599457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshizniiit/pseuds/theshizniiit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Could you write a Wesvis fic where one of them cheats on the other? Something angsty that would give me a lot of sad feels?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Travis bolts as soon as he catches Wes’ eyes from across the room. He runs. Faster than he ever thought he could.

He hears Alex gasp and Wes call after him, but in the end he’s too far away and he decides right there,-gasping and standing in the middle of some random gas station 2 miles down the road- that he’s never going back.

He  _can’t_.

Wes clearly doesn’t want him anyway. He thought he did, Travis  _swore_  he was  _sure_  that he did, but in the end the scene that he’d walked in on had proven that Wes and Alex were a pair that even through divorce, could never be completely severed. Never-judging by the passionate kiss he just walked in on.

It didn’t matter that they’d signed divorce papers 2 years ago.

Or that Wes and Travis had been together for a year and a half.

Or that Wes told Travis that he loved him 6 months ago, and Travis had beamed like the sun and said it back.

Or that Wes said that he wanted Travis to move in two weeks ago.

It didn’t matter. Wes had Alex again.

So he pushes down the bile and the sadness and walks to his apartment. 

He refuses to think about it. He absolutely will not let himself think about it.

He shuts down and moves as if he’s a puppet on strings instead of a real boy.

He packs his things. He keeps his face and his mind blank, a skill he’d perfected as a child when he was shunted from place to place. When he really liked a home and the foster parent that came with it, only to be told that he couldn’t stay and that he wasn’t as important to the parent as they were to him. Not important enough to keep.

This feels just like that.

So Travis doesn’t allow himself to feel.

He tells himself that he’s  _'just moving and moving is okay. It's all fine. You don't care. Why would you care? It's all fine'_ like he used to when he was a kid and was forced out of yet  _another_  house he thought he could call home.

‘ _This is just the same thing’,_  he tells himself,  _'Just moving.'_

He refuses to let the sadness and disappointment that’s choking him rise up any further than it already has. So it makes a home in his throat. He keeps himself blank.

_'It's just moving'._

He packs his bag, full of his necessities and leaves his apartment, and wonders why he’s not surprised.

He supposes that he always thought Wes would go back to Alex, deep down anyway. She was pretty, smart, and not annoying. She was  _perfect_  for Wes. She didn’t put her feet up on the dash of his car, and then argue when she was told to take them off. She didn’t talk too much or too loud or steal Wes’ sanitizer to piss him off. She didn’t throw paper at him across the desk because she was bored or chew too loud or pop her gum or order unhealthy food. 

Travis admires the  _hell_  out of Alex. The lady’s got class. He finds himself internally rooting for her.

He realizes that he isn’t angry, and he doesn’t even feel negatively towards either of them. He’s just….hollow. He should have seen this coming. Wasn’t he supposed to be a fucking detective?

He’s happy that they’ve found each other again because Travis apparently wasn’t right for Wes and he was clearly the only one who couldn’t see that.

He just wasn’t right for the job.

_'See? I can be logical.',_  Travis thinks to himself, pulling out his phone and dialing a familiar number.

"Travis!" his foster sister answers happily on the other end. He can hear the smile in her voice. He can almost see her happy brown eyes and her laugh lines. She’s always been a joyful person. Her happiness was always like a fire no one could put out. No matter what.

"Hey, Anandi." his voice sounds strange to him. Small.

_'It's just moving.'_

"Everything okay little brother?", her voice has changed, taken a darker and more serious tone, Travis blunders for a second on the other end of the line before croaking, "Yea. Fine-"

"You’re lying." She says dangerously, "You’re lying. Something happened. Who do I have to kill?"

"I-"

"Are you  _okay_ , little brother?”

Travis pauses trying to strap his bag to his motorcycle before he says, ”No.”, in a small voice.

His sister pauses, waiting for him to continue. His heart bursts with love for her. She always knew when to prod him and when to give him time to respond.

He inhales.

"No. I’m not okay.", he says, voice shaking. "I’m not okay and I need to get out of here."

He gets on his bike, happy to be off of his shaking legs, and trying to keep himself together in a dark parking garage.

_Pathetic._

"Can I stay with you for a while?" He asks, even though he knows her answer, "I just-"

"Shut up and get over here, Travis." She demands, and he can see the storms in her eyes already, "You never have to ask. You’re always welcome here. Do you want me to come get you?"

Travis manages a shaky smile, and he doesn’t know why, he’s in a parking lot on his motorcycle and he’s alone in the dark of the garage. 

"No…no, I’ll-I’m gonna take my bike."

"Okay.", she says, voice tight, "I’ll order some food. It’ll take a while for you to get here. And then you’re gonna tell me everything, understood?"

She’d always been bossy. Especially when it came to taking care of the people she loved. Even back when Travis was small and Anandi was a gangly pre-teen, just arriving in the states from India, before she adopted Travis as her little brother and partner in crime. She’d always demanded to know what was wrong, always protected him, always made him better, whether he wanted her to or not.

"Yes ma’am." Travis says, voice cracking.

"Be careful, little brother." She soothes,"I don’t like that thing you ride around on. Be careful. And get here safely."

He starts his bike.

"I will."

"And Travis?", she says.

"Yea?"

"It’ll be okay."

He sniffles softly, willing himself to keep it together, before he thanks her and hangs up, shoving his phone in his jeans pocket before tearing out of the parking lot.

_'It's just moving. That's all.'_

~~

He gets there two hours later.

His sister resides away from the city, away from everyone Travis knows, and away from everything he’s running from.

That’s why he’s standing on her doorstep, ringing the bell.

His sister opens the door, sees him and draws him into a crushing hug, and he notes that she’s still a head taller than him, before she drags him inside.

They don’t get to talk that night. 

She senses that her brother is aching and not in  the mood, so in proper big sister fashion she feeds him, and lets him lean his head on her shoulder while they watch television.

_'It's just moving, after all.'_

He’s leaving for bed when his sister hugs him again, and ruffles his hair with a “‘Night kid.” before he heads up to bed. ‘ _Just like old times’_ , he thinks.

He calls the captain and leaves a voice message about his impromptu vacation—he’s  _finally_  taking those vacation days, he supposes—and ignores every call and text that has his phone lighting up with the name Wes Mitchell across the screen.

He refuses to think about it.


	2. Chapter 2

Travis is gone for three weeks.

Three weeks of dodging Wes’ phone calls and not responding to texts ( _He didn’t really know what to say_ ) and holding back pathetic tears into his sister’s hair ( _"It’s okay Travis, It’s okay. I got you. It’ll all be okay baby brother."_ ) and deflecting Dr. Ryan’s concerned phone calls ( _“I’m fine, Dr. Ryan, really. I just needed to get away from everything for a little bit. No, no need to tell Wes anything.”_ ).

The entire three weeks were a blur.

He vaguely remembers spilling his guts and telling Anandi everything, pathetically holding back tears into his sister’s hair as he thinks about Wes’ smile and how he used to look at Travis and he’s struck with the fact that while he’s been trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, what happened was pretty fucked up. So he lets his sister rub his back while he rests his head on her shoulder, and tries his damnest not to cry. He tells himself that he doesn’t like relationships anyway, while the tiny—and completely terrible—voice in his head sneers  _'How could you think he wanted you, of all people?'_  in it’s nastiest tone.

He sniffles, and Anandi sneers that she’s  _gonna kill this guy-_

In the end he coaxes her off of the idea of murdering Wes.

But eventually he decides to return, on the basis that he really likes his job at the department he’s stationed at, and all of his foster mothers live in the area, so he would lose a lot more than he would gain by leaving.

He packs his bags again, and with a kiss on the cheek from his sister and the food that she insisted that she take with him packed in with his clothes on the back of his motorcycle, he heads back to his apartment, falling onto his bed and sleeping for 12 hours when he finally gets there. He doesn’t unpack his bags.

He’s half convinced that he should leave again.

He wakes up, head pounding as it usually does when someone sleeps for far too long when they don’t need it and checks the time.

He could go in to work today. The bad news is that he’ll see Wes, the good news is that he could probably try to get a case and distract himself with that.

Travis makes his decision.

He gets up and gets dressed, and heads into the station. He’s two hours early, but chances are the captain will be there, and Wes won’t. So he can ask for a case and be out of the office for the rest of the day. No Wes. 

Foolproof.

And it almost is. He gets there and captain Sutton welcomes him back with a smile and a few concerned questions, Travis plays it off with his usuall charm and skill at hiding his problems, he gets the case, a kidnapping—convinces Sutton that no-he doesn’t need Wes for this—and then heads out to track down leads. 

He comes back to station in a good mood. It feels good to get back to work. He got pretty far today, all by himself and he’s three steps from Sutton’s office to report his findings when the day immediately goes to shit.

_"TRAVIS?"_

As soon as it registers that Wes has called out to him, he makes for the door of the precinct.

He’s outside the door and his heart is pounding and he’s thinking ‘ _where the hell did I park my bike’_  when he feels someone tug at his wrist and spin him around.

And then he’s face to face with Wes Mitchell. 

He mind reels to a stop. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s spent weeks avoiding this and he hasn’t thought up a plan on what to do should he ever face Wes again.

And that’s come back to bite him in the ass.

He’s spent so much time putting the situation out of his mind and refusing to think about it or feel anything about it that he’s drawing a complete blank now that he’s faced with it head on.

Wes is glaring at him, his face red and his fists clenched, and Travis just feels…tired. If Wes doesn’t want him the least he can do is leave him alone.

Right?

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Wes is glaring at him, his face red and his fists clenched, and Travis just feels…tired. If Wes doesn’t want him the least he can do is leave him alone._

_Right?_

Wrong.

Wes is standing in front of him, looking angrier than Travis has ever seen him. His first thought is that  _he_  should be the one that’s angry, not Wes, but he isn’t. He’s just…..tired. Exhausted, really. He feels stretched out and too thin, like a dish towel that’s been wrung out too many times and he doesn’t have the strength to deal with it. 

He can ignore it. It’s fine. It’s how he deals with things.

"All this time, Travis.  _Three weeks._  Where the hell have you _been_?”

He’s exhausted. Physically and emotionally and  _he can’t deal with this right now_  so he looks Wes in the eye, giving him a stony, blank expression before turning on his heel and walking off again.

Wes doesn’t make it easy.

Wes never makes it easy.

Travis is out of the door and in the empty parking lot before Wes grabs him again and spins him around, and Travis feels a blaze of anger. He yanks his arm away and looks at Wes, takes in his messy blond hair, the bruised eyelids and his wrinkled shirt before he realizes that Wes looks more disheveled and downtrodden than he’s ever seen him.

_Good._

_"Why does it matter? Who cares Wes, who fucking cares?"_ he shouts before he can stop himself.

"I  _care,_  you can’t just disappear with no warning-” Wes snaps, face turning an interesting shade of red.

 _"I can do whatever I damn well please, Wes!"_  Travis screams,  _"It’s none of your business. I’m not your concern anymore!"_

"You’re always my concern, Travis." Wes snaps back.

Travis turns to walk away before he realizes that he _is_  angry. He’s been angry for a while. It’s burning in his chest now, and he can’t hold his tongue anymore.

"Fuck you, Wes." He spits, turning to face him, "How dare you. All of that and you just-" He waves his hands, anger and hurt plastered on his face, he comes to the vague realization that he’s crying. Tears are streaming down his face and he’s  _embarrassed_. For falling for Wes in the first place, and then for falling in part in front of him in a darkened parking lot.

What the hell happened to his resolve? Or his pride?

To hell with it. He’s a mess anyway.

 _"Why would you make me believe that you wanted me when you were just going to run back to her anyway? Why? What did you gain from that? Why even bother?"_  He yells, _“What the hell was the point?”_

"Travis-" Wes says.

And that’s all it takes. Wes saying his name.

"I don’t want to hear it, Wes." Travis says, and suddenly all that fire is gone and he’s exhausted again, "I just-I don’t care. Have a nice life. You won’t be seeing me again."

He turns to walk off before a pale hand grabs his wrist.

"Travis, please-"

"Let go."

"Let me explain."

"Get. Off. Of. Me."

 _"It wasn’t what you think it was. She didn’t know we were together and she just kissed me."_ Wes shouts, hand tightening around his wrist,  _"You walked in at just the wrong time."_

Travis yanks his arm back, finally breaking Wes’ hold. But he doesn’t move. He’s not sure if he believes Wes or not, and that indecision is what’s freezing him in place.

He could be lying to cover his own ass, but- when has Wes ever lied? Wes is terrible at lying. Always has been.

He turns back around, facing the blond head on.

"You have one minute—no— _thirty seconds_ , to explain yourself,” he says, and he hardly recognizes his own voice, its so flat and cold.

He’s still so  _tired._

Wes shifts, “Alex came over because she said she wanted to talk and one minute we went from catching up to her saying that she wants to try again. Before I could respond she grabbed me and kissed me,” Wes says frantically, “We hadn’t spoken in over a year so she didn’t know about us. Then you walked in and bolted and I explained it to her and she started crying and—you were gone.”

Travis pauses and looks him in the eye, trying to detect some form of deception, but he can’t find anything.

He just sees Wes, standing there with bags under his eyes and desperation on his face and his heart on his sleeve.

"I’m sorry, Travis." Wes says quietly, "You left and I panicked and you weren’t answering or texting back and you just  _disappeared_  and I didn’t know what happened to you. _You can’t do that to me Travis_ , you can’t just run off and never tell me where you are or if you’re okay. You could have been dead or-“

"So you meant everything?" Travis says, cutting him off. "This past year and a half? You meant it?"

Wes stops mid tirade before his arms drop to his sides and he whispers, “Of course, Travis. God, how could I want anyone  _else_?”

And that breaks him.

He clenches his hands into fists as the tears come harder than they ever did, and he lets out a sob as he feels Wes’ arms wrap around as he chants  _'i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm so sorry_ ' and ' _i love you’_  into his cheek. He sobs into Wes’ crumpled shirt, and they don’t know where to go from here.

 


End file.
